I'm really interested in what you remember, how you remember, what your perspective is as opposed to somebody else's.

I think about the kinds of gardens that Queen Elizabeth put up. She made gardens in the shape of an "E," for Elizabeth, just one more way in which she used symbolism to solidify her reign: appearing as the Virgin Queen, for example, or wearing a dress embroidered with eyes and ears to indicate that she knew all that was going on in her castle; she had spies.

I can't remember the past, or I can't see very clearly, or I've gotten older and the person I was isn't there anymore, and the place I grew up isn't where I live now.

I've always been interested in the fragility of things, and with special urgency now because of climate change, but also because of the accidents of reading.

I think those of us who use language are always trying for this, trying to keep everything from floating away by trying to write about it despite failure.

A number of poems don't work alone. They need to fit together to work.

I'm always somehow drawn to that sense of how fragile things are and how a garden means so differently depending upon whose language you happen to be in or whose century you happen to be in.